


Thunder & Lightning

by Crystal Flexarch (Alterius)



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Astraphobia, Fluff, Nonbinary Character, Other, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 16:00:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23336404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alterius/pseuds/Crystal%20Flexarch
Summary: Q'tojin has a fear of storms. Kamui knows how to settle it.
Relationships: Kamui Torioi (OC)/Q'tojin Tia (OC), Original Character(s)/Original Character(s)
Kudos: 2





	Thunder & Lightning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lascivus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lascivus/gifts).

> Self-indulgent OC/OC fanfiction with mine and my fiance's characters, written last year and finally posted because I can.

Precious little terrifies him more than a tumultuous storm. The way thunder crashes against the walls and the wind rattles the windows leaves a chill running up his spine worse than the one that rain leaves on his skin. 

This terror of his was born in childhood long ago, when his numerous sisters yet lived. They would curl ‘neath the covers to hide from what he’d long convinced himself was the wrath of Leviathan itself. Much as he wished he’d grown out of such childish fears, he could not claim to be anything other than the same kitten that had sought refuge beneath his mother’s covers from the first roll of thunder. 

But his mother is long gone, just like his sisters, thus he could only retreat to the relative safety of his inn room, to cower beneath thin sheets and pray away the flashes of lightning and roaring wind.

One thing he can say is that he no longer  _ yelps _ like the cat he is, no longer  _ cries _ , doesn’t even  _ shake _ over the bigger fear of someone  _ discovering  _ what a  _ child _ he was beneath it all. The last thing Q’tojin Tia needs is the other occupant of the room repeating something that draws more than just the  _ ire _ of their fearless leader. 

Much as he trusted them, cared about them,  _ felt _ for them, none of that was enough to rid him of his anxiety. Even when the bed dips beneath their weight, even when Q’tojin shuffles towards their natural warmth, he fears any judgment they may have for him. Mayhaps they would taunt him or tease him, as uncharacteristic as that may be. 

“Kamui,” he whispers even still,  _ despising  _ the sound of his shaking voice, willing it away with all his might and failing stupendously. Truly, he is pathetic, a poor excuse for an adventurer, an unfortunate addition to their company—

His self-deprecating thoughts come to a grinding halt when a hand lays atop his head, impeded only by the sheets he’d hidden himself beneath long ago. 

“Can I come in?”

So gentle is the question spoken that Q’tojin can do nothing but nod, barely giving Kamui enough time to stand before he lifts the blanket to open them a path into his hiding place, to welcome them in. 

Kamui doesn’t hesitate, taking the cover from him to properly lift it over their superior height, settling in beside him with a smile that does wonders to calm his nerves. When they reach out, it’s to pull him into an embrace that soothes his soul in a way he can’t put into words, lulls him into a false sense of security that leaves his fingers twitching with every roll of thunder.

But how nice it is to listen to the sound of their breathing, to the beat of their heart. As small a distraction as it is, it still manages to turn his focus from the storm momentarily. Not even the most subtle of movements, minimized in an attempt to not  _ disturb  _ them, go unnoticed. The constant chanting in the back of his mind to not be a bother, not be a  _ burden _ , is buried with such ease by the way fingers weave into his hair, nails scraping lightly against his scalp and scales tugging at his two-toned locks.

He doesn’t care that the sharp edges of their scales catch in his hair on occasion, that they stop more than once to keep it from pulling. Instead, he tries to focus on the kiss pressed to the top of his head, to the gentle affections of a person he’s only just  _ beginning  _ to know. 

And  _ Gods _ , does he want to  _ know _ them. 

“Kamui?” he whispers, words muffled by how close they lay and how Q’tojin’s tight hold has his face buried in their chest. Their response is a simple humm, inquisitive and rumbling through their throat in a way that leaves Q’tojin wondering and  _ wanting _ . How could one person set out to do the job of many and succeed? How could they sweep aside his troubles with such ease?

He doesn’t ask, doesn’t dare to in this embrace. Instead, he whispers, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

So simple is their answer, as if Q’tojin weren’t flush against them, eating up the offered affection like a man that had been starved of it for the better part of his still-young life. 

And given that the bulk of his family was dead, barring a father he no longer remembered, that wasn’t entirely untrue. 

Too hard was the task of expressing how much he appreciated them being here. Too  _ monumental  _ was a task that asked for him to talk himself out of falling hopelessly and wholly into the idea that maybe, just maybe, Kamui was happy sticking with him for reasons well beyond his comprehension.

Would it be too much to admit—even to only himself—that he was head over heels for a person he’d barely met? 

“You’re not going anywhere, right?” he whispers, words so soft that he fears for a moment their horns might not catch every word, no matter their close proximity. But they do and Kamui doesn’t laugh, doesn’t mock him for what sounds less like a question and more like a desperate plea for Kamui to please,  _ please _ not leave him behind.

But above all else, it’s their words that ease his troubled mind more than anything, that quiets the storm outside in favor of the vibrations rumbling from his throat. 

“No, never.”


End file.
